


Home

by erpprincess



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth, World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 01:13:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20183797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erpprincess/pseuds/erpprincess
Summary: Anduin and the Archdruid spend some downtime relaxing, until adventure leads them to a tragic discovery.





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick blurb of a fic describing an evening in which Anduin and his long-time friend the Archdruid Niraikanai relax and reminisce, interrupted by an impulsive adventure.

The fire in the hearth felt soothing after a long tour on the chilly, sea spray coast of Boralus. That it was one of the increasingly fewer places that felt like home only made the atmosphere more relaxing. I leaned back against the small sofa. Seated on the wolf’s fur rug to be closer to the warmth, I removed my boots and gloves before laying my head back against the cushions.

“I remembered the honey this time, he says, handing me a mug. I gratefully accept it; the sweet aroma of Pandarian green tea chasing away the last of the ocean chill.

“You are too kind, my king. I should be the one serving you.” He smiles at that - the gentle smile reserved for times like these when he can lay duty aside and just be Anduin for a bit. He had already changed from his traveling clothes to fresh ones after the long sail back to Stormwind. My druidic armor was more or less a living extension of the forests that my magic comes from, and was therefore hardly distressed by the journey, but I had removed the bulkier pieces in favor of comfort. 

“Nonsense,” he replied with a chuckle. “What kind of a host would I be if I let the Archdruid of the Dreamgrove serve herself tea in my own home?”

"You say that as if I do not also call Stormwind home," I countered in a teasing tone. I brought the mug to my lips and breathed in the steam. 

"Of course it is, but you always returned to--" His face fell at the realization of what he had almost said. "Nira, I…"

"It's okay. You're right, of course. As much time as I spent here, I had a duty to the forest and the Dream." I stared idly into the crackling fire and took a deep breath. The burning of Teldrassil was still fresh in my mind. Not only had it been a surprise, but every able druid that had been fighting in Darkshore had immediately taken flight to the world tree. I could still hear the screams, the panic; I could still smell the city burning. For every life I saved, a hundred had been lost forever. 

"It's my biggest fear, you know. That someday Stormwind will come under attack, and I won't be able to stop it. Ever since Teldrassil, that nightmare has never been more real. I was heartbroken when I heard what Sylvanas had done, but I won't lie, a part of me was relieved it wasn't here." Anduin closed his eyes tight and let out a short breath. "It's awful of me to think that. I'm not just the king of Stormwind, I'm supposed to protect all of the Alliance." 

"And you lead wonderfully, with a calm heart and a level head. We all have deep ties to our homelands. You've seen how Genn retains his loyalty to Gilneas, despite the kingdom's fall. You've seen the draenei fight tooth and nail for Argus, some of whom had never even set foot upon it before. Besides…" I hesitated. I had been in his position before, but it wasn't a story I had ever shared with him. "I remember when Stormwind fell during the First War."

He turned to me, clearly surprised. "You… you were here?"

I took a deep breath. "I was. Only a few outsiders were living in or around Stormwind at the time, mostly dwarves and gnomes. As far as I know, I was the only night elf in the area, maybe even in the Eastern Kingdoms entirely. I traveled with the Arators as they settled in the south, eventually befriending your great-great-grandfather, Landan Wrynn."

"The first Wrynn to be king," he said, a mix of awe and jealousy in his voice. "I’ve known you all my life and I’ve never thought to ask. What was he like?" 

It was not the route I intended to take the conversation, but this would be a much more enjoyable path. "Landan was… clever. He was impulsive in his personal life, but calculated in battle. I never quite knew what he would do, but I knew it would be great."

"He sounds interesting," Anduin commented, starting up at the golden lion's head crest hung above the fireplace mantle. 

"'Interesting' is not how Nielas saw him. He often--"

"Nielas?" he questioned.

"Nielas Aran, his court conjurer. The Guardian Medivh's father, though that came about later." I could see the surprise on his face as the words sank in. He knew Medivh, of course - the Guardian who, for reasons unknown, created the Dark Portal that led the orcs to Azeroth, inciting the First War - but I don't think he realized how close to home the betrayal was. "Nielas was a good man. Your ancestors may have run him ragged, but he loved his work and his kingdom. He did not deserve his fate, but his spirit is at rest now."

"What was Stormwind like back then?" he asked thoughtfully, as if to himself.

"Much like it is today, actually. The faces may have changed, some of the structures, too, but these white walls have always been a symbol of strength and hope. Anduin," I began, resting one hand on his gently. 

“What brought you to the Eastern Kingdoms, anyway? I’m embarrassed that we’ve been friends for so long, yet I know so little about your past.” He turned to me, eyes shining as he took another sip from the steaming mug. More than all the flowers on all the hills and valleys, I would do anything to see him stay as happy as he was now. 

“Curiosity, mostly. It’s a rather boring story, if I say so. My parents, though they love me dearly, did not make a grand announcement of my birth for security reasons. Back then, the kaldorei were still recovering from the losses incurred during the War of the Ancients, as were many other races. Our tenuous alliances were broken, and when the Tauren, Furbolgs, and others returned to their respective lands, so did sects of kaldorei venture out to start anew. One of which you’ll recognize: Dath’remar Sunstrider. I suppose he and his followers were the first kaldorei in the Eastern Kingdoms after all.”

Anduin set his mug to the side and pulled the heavy clefthoof blanket from the sofa we were leaning against. I lifted my mug as he unfolded it and threw the plush fur over us. “Anyway, it wasn’t long after I was born that Xavius began his attack on the Dream. Malfurion was trapped within, as you know. I spent the next few thousand years studying druidism under Shan’do Bearmantle hoping to find a way to free him.”

“You did though, right?” 

“Not at first. My shan’do was a great mentor, but I felt I needed to explore Azeroth in its entirety to really know the world whose power I was wielding. That’s when I found your ancestors.”

“It still amazes me when I’m reminded of how long-lived you are. The experiences you’ve had, it’s all dusty history books and stories passed down to me, but you lived it.”

“Not all are happy memories, but truthfully, it’s one of the reasons I decided to stay with the Arator, and subsequently in Stormwind. Human lives are so short, comparatively, and yet you have the most passion, courage, and desire of any people I’ve encountered. I envy you. I used to find it odd, but I’ve come to believe that it’s because of your short lives that you feel the need to experience everything there is as quickly as possible.” 

Anduin laughed at that, the sound a welcome and infectious one. I couldn’t help the silly grin that spread across my face watching him. He took a deep breath to calm himself and sighed. “I envy you, too. I wish I had time to experience the world. I don’t blame my father for it, but I never… I never had a real childhood. Sometimes I feel like I was born an adult. I don’t remember playing with other kids. I didn’t have time for hobbies or games. To this day, I’ve only been outside Stormwind a handful of times, the longest of which was the campaign in Pandaria.”

I regarded him for a moment. The world was far from peaceful, especially with the rising threat from the Horde, but one thought kept coming back to me. He’s human. He’s human, and he’s already a quarter of the way through his life, assuming he dies of old age. I set my mug aside and shifted beneath the blanket so I was facing him. “If you could do anything right this moment, what would it be?”

“I… anything?”

“Anything. Where would you go? What do you want to see? What have you dreamed of doing?” In my travels, whether I was studying, healing, or fighting, I made a point to bring back something unique for him. I knew how curious he was, and how desperately he wanted to be anyone other than the king. We talked like this often: me sharing stories and him asking questions, learning everything he could about the world outside the keep.

“I don’t really know. I’ve seen beautiful pictures of Nagrand and the Grizzly Hills. I’m curious to see Shattrath or Dalaran, where members of the Alliance and Horde go about their day without war at the forefront of their minds. After visiting the Netherlight Temple, I wonder what others are like. Do the shaman really work that closely to the Maelstrom? What’s it like to enter the gates of the Halls of Valor?” 

“Well, I can’t say I’ve been invited to many of the others, but…” I stood, offering my hand. “I do know one place we can visit.” 

He looked confused for a moment as he accepted my hand and I hauled him to his feet, then it dawned on him. “The Dreamgrove?” 

I nodded. 

“Am… am I even allowed to go there? Clearly I’m not a druid.” 

Now it was my turn to laugh. “Clearly you are not, but, being the Archdruid in charge of said Dreamgrove, I think I can bring a guest if I want.” 

The excitement on his face reminded me of the children running around the Darkmoon Faire. 

Exactly what I hoped for.

* * *

We spent the next few hours walking through the Dreamgrove. I let Anduin lead, allowing him to pursue any and everything that piqued his interest. We paused at one of the many spots where sapling treants were waiting in their seeds to be born. With his hands on the soil and mine on his, I channeled the natural magicks of the forest through us to the seed. After a few minutes, I watched the leader of the Alliance wave a joyous farewell as the young treant wandered off. 

We talked briefly with Archdruid Hamuul Runetotem who was delighted to see Anduin. Hamuul knew of the friendship between he and Baine and shared the same respect for the young king as his chieftain. He, like all druids, wished for peace between the races so that the world could be in balance. Anduin was humbled to meet Keeper Remulos, the jovial ancient of the world and pillar of the grove itself. He was reverent when we descended into the barrow dens, listening intently as I explained more about the Dream and the time druids spend in slumber to protect it. 

I showed him the Dreamway, the nexus of portals created by the green dragonflight connected to various points all across Azeroth. We stepped through a few, greeted by the emerald dragons who stood sentry over the doorways. Lastly, we took the portal to Moonglade.

The glade itself was calm, as it always was. Lake Elune’ara commanded most of the space, but as we walked around the water, I pointed out the Stormrage barrow den, Remulos’s shrine, and of course, Nighthaven. I introduced him to the great spirits of the wilds whose forms the druids take. 

We found refreshment in the Nighthaven inn and decided to stay a while. “Thank you for this, Nira. Truly. I so rarely get to see what’s happening outside of Stormwind; I get more reports from various outposts than I have time to read, but it’s difficult to understand what you’re fighting for if you’ve never seen it.”

“I’m glad to share my world with you, Anduin. I’m sorry that I cannot take you all the places you wish to go, but Sylvanas has eyes in so many of them. At least here, I know you’re safe.”

He picked at his pastry a bit, and I knew there was something else on his mind. “Before we return, there’s one more place I’d like to see.”

“Oh?” I took a sip of my wine, waiting. “If it is within my power, I would be happy to oblige.” 

“I… I want to see Darnassus.” Anduin raised his eyes, though his head was still inclined towards his plate.

I set my glass down and sat back in my chair. “Anduin, you don’t--”

“Please. I want to see-- I need to see what she did with my own eyes. I’ve read the reports and listened to the refugees, but… I hate that I could do nothing. I still remember Tyrande’s disappointment when I denied her troops to retake Darkshore. I need to see it.”

I wanted to tell him no. I wanted to refuse. It had been months since the attack, but the world tree still smouldered. There had been no time for any salvage or recovery. The ongoing war on Darkshore meant the tree had been abandoned. 

I downed the rest of my wine and took a deep breath. “Okay,” I resigned. “But we go alone. Between the smouldering branches and the smoke-filled air, there is no safe place for hippogryphs to land.”

He was saddened by the idea that the tree was still a dangerous place after all this time, but his face showed his determination. I paid the innkeeper, and Anduin followed me to the highest reachable point along the Darkshore border. 

“I will fly as close as I can, but I am not certain we will be able to land.” In a matter of moments, I had assumed the form of the great owl.

“I understand.” I crouched low so he could climb onto my back. He squeezed his legs and held tight to the leather collar around my neck. It wasn’t the same as a gryphon, but he wasn’t a novice flyer. 

I dove, the extra weight requiring more momentum than I would have gotten taking off normally. I opened my wings and we skimmed across the serene glow of Lake Elune’ara. Pushing upwards, I turned our direction towards Teldrassil -- and heard Anduin gasp. 

The view was heartbreaking. While war-torn, the forests of Darkshore were still mostly intact; however, beyond the shore, Teldrassil rose not as a beacon of peace and life, but one of anger and death. Its once-sprawling canopy was still raining down onto its roots as ash. As we neared, Anduin spoke a holy word and enveloped us in a protective shield to keep the smoke and ash out of our lungs. 

We managed to find a small area of the capital where it was safe to land. After Anduin dismounted, I shifted back to my elven form. We walked in silence through the once vibrant and peaceful streets of Darnassus - streets that had seen years of trade, creativity, friendships, and families - now broken and burned. Entire districts had been leveled by the flames, leaving only a few stone columns and warped metal fencing. The only major structure to survive, if you could call it surviving, was the Temple of Elune. 

We stood beneath the marble archway at the entrance to the temple. High Priestess Haidene’s statue still stood, charred and cracked among fragments of bone and melted artifacts, her ever-flowing moonfall now evaporated from the intense heat of the past two months. I allowed myself to cry for my home for the first time since its destruction. 

“Nira… I’m so sorry.” Anduin’s voice cracked between his own tears, and while I knew he felt the despair that permeated the tree, I could feel the anguish of all the elves, trees, beasts, even the very blades of grass that had been lost. The screams I heard during the evacuation paled in comparison to the silent torture Teldrassil yet still endured. My head was spinning; my body ached. I could hear Anduin calling to me, but his voice was faint, drowned out by the cries of the lost spirits of my kin and the forest that once protected us.

I must have blacked out. I woke on the temple steps to a light so radiant, I had to shield my eyes. The oppressing pain on my mind had lessened, and I realized as my eyes adjusted that Anduin was praying over me. I sat up slowly and put a hand on his arm.

“There were so many elven spirits trapped here. You must have felt them.” He rose and offered me a hand.

“Not just elves,” I began, still a bit shaky. 

“Then, the forest, too? You felt Teldrassil? By the Light…” He ran a hand back through his golden hair, a gesture that seemed to be hereditary as King Llane and King Varian had also done this when they were trying to wrap their heads around something.

“Teldrassil… and every living thing that perished here. I’ve never felt that kind of residual sadness and pain before on such a scale. I’m sorry I put you in danger.” 

Anduin still held my arm to steady me, but turned his focus outwards towards the ruins of Darnassus. “I don’t know if I helped much, but I tried to lead the spirits tied here to the Light. Hopefully, they can find some kind of peace now.” His words were sincere, but his voice told me something still bothered him.

“It worked. With the elven spirits gone, the strain on me weakened. It will take decades to heal the tree, if it’s even possible, but you’ve done the kaldorei a great honor by helping their spirits move on. Thank you, my king.” 

“Would that I could have saved them before now.” He clenched his fists at his sides, blaming himself for the events that none of us could have anticipated. “If only I had--”

His regret was cut short as I turned him towards me. “You couldn’t have known. No one could. This was Sylvanas’s doing, not yours. She believed destroying Teldrassil and Lordaeron would weaken our resolve, but you’ve seen that it’s done the opposite. The night elves fight fiercer than ever, and we fight for the Alliance.

Sylvanas’s actions are tearing the Horde apart, but the Alliance? 

**We stand as one.**”


End file.
